


Ohana

by Maedlin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 2012 Branching Timeline, Alternate Timelines, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, BAMF Tony Stark, But also, Dimension Travel, Extremis Tony Stark, Gen, Hydra Steve Rogers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Introspection, Misunderstandings, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, So Does Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers is Not Hydra, Time Travel, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark-centric, Unreliable Narrator, implied/referenced suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maedlin/pseuds/Maedlin
Summary: Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten. — Lilo & StitchThis is the reality where Thanos and his armies inexplicably disappeared in 2014.This is the reality where a Steve Rogers finally gets to keep his promise to a Tony Stark. Maybe this time, he even does so before it's too late.Or: A series of currently linear, connected shorts set post-Endgame featuring a Tony from the 2012 branching timeline in the MCU of 2023.





	1. And So It Goes

**Author's Note:**

> *****Endgame Spoilers Within*****  
>     
> I chose not to tag for Major Character Death in favor of Implied/Referenced Character Death because I thought the former implies spoilers for Endgame as well as things about this story that don't quite fit. Rated Teen for non-Explicit Fridge Horror regarding the 2012 Branching Timeline.
> 
> ...Basically, I saw Endgame and then this happened. The tags make it sound a lot darker than it is, I think.
> 
> Keep in mind that, unlike my more planned verses, this story is unbeta'd. Hope you enjoy it regardless!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally written to stand alone, and is stylistically distinct from subsequent additions.

“What have have you done?” Bruce breathed out.

 

Captain America reappeared.

 

In his arms was an unconscious, younger, and frail-looking Tony Stark.

 

+++

 

Perhaps in a kinder universe, the story goes something like this:

 

Soul. Power. Reality.

 

Returned to precise moments in which they were left.

 

Steve might have ventured to New York next, returning Time and Mind into their rightful places. He might retire in 1970 having replaced the Space Stone. Might finally have that date with Peggy. Might try to help make sure Tony grows up knowing that he is loved, this time. Cherished. Protected.

 

The universe is not kind.

 

It simply _is._

 

In this universe, he can only travel the paths through the Quantum Realm Bruce's calculations have created. They are linear by necessity.

 

_(Perhaps Tony might have been able to…)_

 

_(Bruce is brilliant. But Tony was…)_

 

_(He was Tony.)_

 

1970 first. The tesseract, gone.

 

2012\. 2013 on Asgard, 2014 on Morag and Vormir.

 

And then it is done. And Steve can go home.

 

 _(“Isn’t that_ why _we fight? So we can_ end _the fight? So we get to go home?!”)_

 

He’s not ready.

 

But then, no matter how long he takes, it will always only be five seconds. Or perhaps he’s had enough of skipping through time, forever unmoored. He could simply opt to pass the nine years the slow way.

 

Tony always told him to get a life. No doubt the man would be thrilled Cap was finally taking his advice.

 

_(Tony, gaunt and half-dead, far closer in appearance to the survivors of Nazi concentration camps than the vibrant, larger-than-life man that was Earth’s Greatest Defender.)_

 

_(“You promised you would be there. That we would face this together. And then you weren’t there.”)_

 

In the aftermath of Siberia, he’d thought he could never sink any lower, could never hurt Tony worse than he already had.

 

_Hah._

 

Figures he’d be wrong about that, too.

 

+++

 

Steve stays on Vormir for a time. A lot of that time is spent in silence, but—not all of it.

 

Funny how life goes sometimes.

 

Steve... Steve is too tired, now. He can’t muster hatred for Red Skull. Can’t bring himself to feel that once-familiar anger he used as a shield in its own right. He can't even quite resent this man, the one that had led into the ice and out of time in the first place.

 

Funny, how the years can change a person.

 

For Red Skull, it was seventy years and it was an eternity as the guardian of the soul stone.

 

And for Steve…

 

He doesn’t know.

 

_(“You can rest now, Tony.”)_

 

(It should have been me.)

 

_(“It was never meant to be her.”)_

 

Eventually, though, he knows it is time to go.

 

But he can’t—

 

He’s not ready for 2023, yet. For the world that waits, the one without Nat. Without Tony.

 

He just—

 

He needs to say goodbye, somehow.

 

Wants to see them one last time.

 

_(“He’s my friend.”)_

 

_(“So was I.”)_

 

And so takes the ship he’s been loaned for this journey. Learns to pilot it for this final, unscheduled voyage.

 

And so he goes.

 

+++

 

Earth is _wrong._

 

It’s not—it’s not what it should be. An alternate reality, perhaps, but—unchanged. For better or for worse, the past that is the future inevitable.

 

_(“I am inevitable.”)_

 

But how could it be?

 

This is the reality where Thanos and his armies inexplicably disappeared in 2014, skipping ahead to make a final stand in 2023.

 

Or rather, in _a_ 2023\. His past, but not this future.

 

This is the reality where, in 2012, Tony Stark collapsed in a confrontation with the World Security Council over Loki. Where Thor save his life via Mjolnir’s blessing. Where in the chaos Loki disappeared and took the tesseract with him.

 

A world where a Captain America says _Hail Hydra._ A world where a younger, naive version of himself only two weeks out from 1945, two weeks and a day out from Bucky’s fall, is told by “Loki” that Bucky Barnes is alive, and almost loses the scepter to him as a result. (Does lose, did lose, for a moment that never happened.)

 

And it changed things but… not for the better.

 

+++

 

Steve Rogers does not join SHIELD and lead a STRIKE team in this world.

 

Because Loki might be lying, but… maybe he wasn’t.

 

And this Steve, still half-mad from grief and thrust abruptly into a new world and a new war that he doesn’t understand and frankly, doesn’t yet care to.

 

This is a Steve that has fought with the Avengers, but does not yet consider himself _an Avenger._ None of them had, then. Not really. Not until SHIELD fell and the world needed heroes to pick up the pieces.

 

It was their first fight together, and they’d become a team because there was no other option, but… they weren’t a _real_ team, a family, then. Just a collection of half-realized potentials.

 

And this world was still a world where Tony was alone in his beliefs that the fight was far from finished.

 

_(“That up there? That’s the End Game.”)_

 

And they’d all just—

 

Dismissed that.

 

Didn’t want to believe, because they couldn’t bear to believe. Willful ignorance until half the universe—until everyone, really—paid the price for their folly.

 

Ironic that in this reality, they were technically right. In this reality, the bloodprice was already paid and Thanos was gone. And there might be other threats, true. But. Not Thanos. Not the Chitauri. Not again.

 

But if anything, Tony’s prophecies should have been _more_ credible here, not less. Here, when Loki remained a dangling thread with control—or at least, possession of—an Infinity Stone.

 

And yet.

 

The world wants—needs—to believe that it is safe. That the threat is gone.

 

And with only Tony to say differently?

 

Different verse, same as the first.

 

Except here. Here there is a Steve that learns of the Winter Soldier far too early. Willing to face the world alone with nothing but his fists and the shield on his back, firmly convinced that it will be enough. And if it wasn’t…

 

Well. At least Steve wouldn’t take anyone else down with him.

 

_(At least he would have to live with this… ache, this all-consuming grief, anymore.)_

 

So Steve slips off the radar, on his mad quest for Bucky and answers and if he can’t find them—

 

He could go out fighting. Like he meant to the first time.

 

_(This is a Steve that didn’t know there were things far worse than death.)_

 

+++

 

This is a world where Steve Rogers is captured by HYDRA, and Project Insight does not fail.

 

+++

 

This is a world where Tony Stark survives where more than eight hundred thousand others don’t.

 

 _(This is a man that survived having a moon thrown at him. Survived_ so much, _only to sacrifice himself to save the universe from Thanos once and for all.)_

 

+++

 

This is a world where Tony Stark survives, but perhaps wishes that he had not.

 

+++

 

It is fortunate—or perhaps, extremely unfortunate—for Tony that HYDRA wants him for his mind. For his knowledge, and for his skill, and for his genius.

 

The same tactics that gave them the Winter Soldier and Captain HYDRA couldn’t give them The Mechanic. Couldn’t give them Iron Man.

 

But…

 

This is a world where HYDRA won.

 

This is a world that still had the mind stone. Still had the scepter and Von Strucker.

 

This is a world where there were no heroes left to fight, where they were killed before they could become a threat.

 

_(Even the Maximoffs, whose hatred had once led them to unknowingly volunteer for HYDRA presenting itself as SHIELD.)_

 

_(They had always carried the potential to be heroes, and Insight did not miss that.)_

 

+++

 

This was the world to which Steve returned.

 

+++

 

_“Together.”_

 

+++

 

This is the reality where a Steve Rogers finally gets to keep his promise to a Tony Stark. Maybe this time, he even does so before it's too late.


	2. Coda:: Tony Wakes Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise bonus chapter featuring a very cute little girl and a very confused Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you who follow my other stories might know I've been on a bit of a hiatus recently, and wasn't originally intending to start posting again (or even write) for a few weeks yet. 
> 
> Life's funny sometimes, and this happened. After letting it sit for a while I decided I might as well share some things that ended up being written during this period. Again, no serious plans to return to this story so I'm still leaving it marked as complete. Hope you enjoy this additional glimpse into the story's universe!

Tony Stark wakes up.

 

Doesn’t so much as twitch or, conversely, go utterly still.

 

He hears a beeping noise—heart rate monitor?

 

He’s on a bed, reclined.

 

He listens for any sign of another’s presence; he’s grown adept at picking out the sound of another’s breathing from the ambient noise of a room out of sheer necessity.

 

Undoubtedly aided by one of the many serum-lites they’d injected him with to keep him alive.

 

He hears none.

 

Cautiously, he opens his eyes a fraction; a moment later he opens them entirely to take in the room proper.

 

It’s...not typical SHIELDRA fare, which probably means it’s not real. _Wonderful._

 

He takes stock of his likely-illusory self.

 

He’s restrained—no surprises there—although it’s less constricting than usual. No chin or forehead strap, nothing at his hips or chest. The bindings seem… perfunctory, by comparison. Padded medical cuffs on his hands and non-broken leg. He still has circulation in his fingers, even.

 

Fluid hookup to his PIC catheter, the more permanent replacement to an IV? Check.

 

Explains the lack of pain, at least.

 

He wants to check the port at the nape of his neck that interfaces directly with his brain stem, but of course he can’t. There’s no cable attached, at least not in this increasingly-likely-to-be-fake world. No doubt his “real” self was online.

 

He attempts to reach out with Extremis anyway.

 

Unsurprisingly, the algorithmic blocks keeps him confined within his own mind.

 

And because he’s a glutton for punishment, he scans the various digital chains and barriers HYDRA’s installed for the umpteenth time. Combined with his own Extremis-enhanced efforts to get around the attempts at mind control, it’s quite the disaster zone at this point.

 

Turns out, Tony makes an _excellent_ Asshole Djinn.

 

The satisfaction at their increasing rage made the subsequent, increasingly-cruel punishments... well, at the very least _less_ unendurable.

 

Maybe.

 

There’s a small wand with no obvious purpose loosely gripped in his right hand. There’s a button on its end that, presumably, Tony’s meant to trigger himself.

 

Will is summon ‘help’? More drugs? An electroshock ‘prank’, just for the hell of it?

 

Or maybe it’s the trigger for a bomb under the bed.

 

_Tony can dream, yeah?_

 

Whatever it is, he’s liable to press it sooner rather than later. Postponing the unknown for now, he continues to take stock of not just himself but also his surroundings.

 

He’s in what, hand-to-God, appears to be a literally cabin in the woods. There’s a pair of windows to his back, one each on the left and right. It’s daytime, but without a clock or better point of reference Tony can’t tell what time it is or even guess at cardinal directions.

 

That his internal, Extremis-powered UTC tells him it’s been fifty-six hours since he was last aware enough to check it isn’t particularly reassuring. It’s hardly the highest that particular counter has gotten, but… the less said of those periods, the better.

 

He resets the counter.

 

Unsurprisingly, the heart monitor looks to be the most advanced piece of tech in the room. Dream-world or no, even the dumbest of minions have long since learned better than to risk giving Tony Stark access to any sort of technology.

 

He has a tendency to make things explode when they forget. Sometimes, even when they don’t.

 

He’s not even in a medical cot. For all appearances, it’s like he’s in a guest room at one of those summer homes he owns but never visits.

 

Well, perhaps not one of _his._ Even at his most rustic there’s no way he’s settle for something this Luddite.

 

But….

 

He’s on a full bed with a study frame. A few gentle tugs give him enough data to confirm that brute force alone is unlikely to make an impact on his predicament.

 

Maybe if he was Cap—

 

Or, best not go that route.

 

Clone or the original Cap had been HYDRA all along, Tony has no idea.

 

He’d been _so stupid—_

 

_Nope. Not going down that route either._

 

A wardrobe.

 

A side table, with a half-melted cup of ice.

 

 _Way to rub it in, assholes,_ Tony thinks as he realizes just how incredibly thirsty he is.

 

Two doors—smaller one probably a closet, the other an exit?

 

Tony goes still.

 

The larger door’s knob has begun to turn slowly. He watches it warily. It slowly swings open to reveal—

 

He looks down.

 

A young girl slips into the room, closing the door just as gently as she opened it.

 

Forget the mind stone, maybe Tony’s just finally cracked.

 

The girl turns. Her eyes widen as she meets his gaze.

 

“D-daddy?” she breathes out, all sense of stealth seemingly forgotten as she rushes up to his side.

 

Tony reflexively flinches away. If he’s being honest it’s just as much from the form of address as the close proximity of another person—however tiny and admittedly adorable said person may be.

 

_Compartmentalize._

 

He opens his mouth, although he’s not quite sure what he’s going to say. What comes out is a raspy croak. He goes to try again, leading the girl’s gaze in the direction of the ice chips with his own before attempting to—

 

Or not. Kid’s quick on the uptake and carefully grabs the glass, fishing out one of the medium-sized cubes. She cups it in her palm, gently delivering the offering to his mouth. He sucks it in with what he hopes passes for a small, grateful smile.

 

The kid takes it as her cue to speak.

 

“Mommy… mom said you were never coming back, and everyone was really sad. But then you did, and I don’t think I’m s’posed to know yet, but I heard them whisperin’ about it when they thought I was asleep for a _nap,_ ” she wrinkles her nose in distaste, “like I hadn’t already noticed something was wrong before. But then momma said to stay outta the guest room, and she _never_ does that, not for anything but the garage and…” she trails off.

 

“Daddy? Is it—is it really you?” Her eyes are uncertain, her expression open and vulnerable.

 

He sends a silent prayer up to whoever this kid’s real parents are and nods.

 

The girl’s eyes well with tears. Tony feels like even more of a heel than before but—

 

“...Kiddo, can you—” His voice is intelligible now, though it’s still raspy.

 

She feels him another ice chip, then looks down at where he’s tugging at his cuffed arm.

 

Her eyes widen, and then she… giggles?

 

“Mommy threatened to tie you to the bed next time you got sick if you tried ta escape to the garage again and you laughed but you should have taken her serious, huh?”

 

_Compartmentalize._

 

“How about we keep this one between us, then?” he says, aiming for conspiratorial.

 

Even as she wipes away her tears, she’s grinning.

 

“Like a secret?”

 

 _“Exactly_ like a secret.”

 

She undoes one, then moves to his leg as he frees the hand still gripping the mysterious remote.

 

Cautiously, he sits up. He can’t entirely suppress the resulting groan.

 

Not-his-kid watches in silence as he cautiously turns, letting his legs dangle towards the floor on the side of the bed that hosts the IV and various monitors he’s still attached to. Just as slowly, he rises to his feet—or, rather, foot—leaning heavily on the bed frame for support.

 

He shuffle-turns to the window, hoping to get a better idea of his surroundings and trying to figure out how he could escape like this, if he could run if he needs to or—

 

The directive against attempting to escape flashes warningly in his mind.

 

Right.

 

Asshole Genie is a go once again.

 

Doublethink the sincere belief he’s testing HYDRA’s security measures. He can’t _honestly_ believe there’s a possibility for escape, or even the hint of an indication he wants to do so.

 

_(He doesn’t acknowledge how little doublethink suppressing the hope requires.)_

 

The warning subsides. Extremis does its job, helping him to both maintain and _believe_ in the artifice-free artificial brain state.

 

_(He also doesn’t acknowledge how the reality around him is almost certainly a construct.)_

 

Okay.

 

Cabin in the Woods: HYDRA edition. Security Test #1 is a go.

 

He always hates himself for cooperating, but he _knows_ what they do when he crosses that thin line between passive resistance—working slowly, malingering—and outright defiance. In the battle of who will blink first…

 

Well. As HYDRA has oh-so-helpfully reminded him far too many times, there will always been more innocents to bear the consequences of his insolence.

 

Coming from an organization that can and has killed hundreds of thousands in a single day, comprised of literally Nazis whose predecessors orchestrated the Holocaust? It’s hardly an idle threat.

 

_Escape routes. Go._

 

He peers out the window. Second story. Looks like there’s a slant porch roof in front of him making it a slightly more viable option. Admittedly, the broken leg thing wasn’t a huge help if he chose that route. Hence, y’know, the reason they kept breaking it. Partly, at least. Probably.

 

Partly also just for fun. Because every HYDRA goon’s greatest joy in life these days seems to involve extracting their pound of flesh from the fallen “Iron Man”.

 

For the millionth time, Tony is impossibly grateful he had the surgery to remove the arc reactor before everything went to hell. After Extremis, they tried to implant a new reactor into his sternum only once. It was the closest he came to legitimately escaping, in both senses of the word, ever.

 

Now, of course, Extremis is mostly dormant. Its only energy source is its host… and Tony rarely has any energy to spare.

 

They plug him in, sometimes, when they overdo things and he’s up precariously close to death. It’s like giving breadcrumbs to a starving man. Bonus in that, unlike arc-sourced energy, the electric current does not agree with his central nervous system _at all._ It has a tendency to leave him a bit of a twitchy mess afterwards.

 

He’s been looking out the window too long, and he spots Captain America stepping out of his car on the gravel driveway, dressed in that ridiculous white outfit he’d seen—

 

_(When had he seen?)_

 

There’s no preventing the way his heart rate skyrockets, not this time. He’s just cognizant enough to make sure he lands on the bed rather than the floor. He sweeps the girl up into his arms with the movement, covering her mouth in anticipation of the startled shriek his fall induces.

 

She squirms in his lap, which, _ouch_ , but he tries to be soothing.

 

_Compartmentalize._

 

“Shh, sorry, just got a bit startled there is all, let’s not freak out okay?”

 

The kid nods, and he only has half a second to take in the mischievous glint that replaces the fear before—

 

She licks his hand.

 

He jerks away, letting out a sound that’s Frankenstein’s bastard child of a borderline-hysterical laugh and a grunt of pain. The kid squirms a bit more. It takes Tony a moment to realize that, rather than getting off him, she is making herself more comfortable. Settling properly into his lap.

 

Tony is utterly still.

 

Hallucination, mind-stone, somehow-real, or whatever, it’s been a while since he’s had any sort of prolonged non-violent human contact.

 

The kid—

 

And damn, he needs a better nickname than that for the munchkin. Or maybe he shouldn’t, once you name something you’ve committed and now you’re attached and whatever this is Tony can’t—

 

The kid nuzzles into his chest. His realization has come too late. The USS Emotional Attachment has already left harbor.

 

(He got sentimental over robotic arms and a literal voice in the ceiling, he wasn’t fooling anyone on that front. Not HYDRA. Certainly not himself.)

 

The girl’s made herself entirely at home in his lap now, and twists herself slightly to look up at him properly. She tentatively reaches out a hand to trace… whatever it is she finds on his face.

 

Stubble, apparently, but beyond that...

 

She studies him in silence for a minute before concluding—

 

“Your face looks weird without the hair. Your head looks even weirder, even though there’s more hair there…”

 

 _Brain surgery, what can you do?_ Tony thinks but doesn’t say.

 

He looked even more ridiculous bald. Especially with the Jack Skellington routine he had (still has?) going on with the rest of him.

 

“I think I offended it, or something, because it’s taking forever to come back…” The quip comes without thought, and the girl… munchkin… not-daughter even if he knows that if he looks too closely at her features, he can almost see—

 

_Compartmentalize._

 

_Focus._

 

If Cap catches sight of him, it’s likely game over. Maybe mini—hey, that might work, it’s kinda a name even. Mini-m—no. Just Mini.

 

Maybe Mini can still escape, for a given value of “escape,” but no… preschooler, maybe, he’s not sure how you’re supposed to tell... however clever, is going to outrun Cap.

 

Wherever there even is to escape to here, if there is anywhere. He’s been wrong before, and with no way to know always best to work off the assumption that leaves him with actual options, and if this is “real”....

 

Ideally “escape” means hiding somewhere isolated and far enough underground they can’t track him. He fucking hate caves but what can you do?

 

Escape and then… what?

 

 _(nothing, because this is just another mind game, but it’s that or nothing and Tony’s never quite lost that urge to_ do. _It’s either that or give into despair, and… he’s tried that a few times. Didn’t stick, and certainly didn’t help anything. Maybe if he’s far enough out of their metaphorical grasp he can…)_

 

But again, he’s not _really_ trying to escape anyone. You can’t escape HYDRA; he’s just checking for weaknesses in their security department, that’s all.

 

Even if his surroundings are fake, there’s no telling if the kid is. They’ve inserted others into their illusory realities before. Never with someone this small, of course, but...

 

_Focus._

 

Step 1: Exit house with kid

Step 2: Avoid Cap

Step 3: ???

Step 4: Escape

 

_Great plan, Stark._

 

First, Step 0: Buy Time.

 

“So, Mini, we don’t want me tied to the bed again, right? That was very mean of—” He swallows. Thinks of ginger-bordering-strawberry-blond hair and blue eyes the exact shade of Mini’s. “—mommy, wasn’t it?”

 

Mini nods, grinning again.

 

“Right. So, let’s put her in time-out—you wanna go lock the door for me?”

 

“...That’s not how time-out works.”

 

“Well if she was _in_ the room, then it’d be time-in wouldn’t it?”

 

Mini ponders that logic for a moment before, apparently convinced, she makes to stand up.

 

Makes, because she halts halfway ( _fuck what’s my backup plan?!)_ , turns around, and wraps her arms around his neck in a hug.

 

His brain short-circuits.

 

_(Well, not literally. Even though that’s definitely possible—and excruciatingly painful—these days.)_

 

But it’s a gentle hug; Mini’s smart enough to avoid jostling any of his wounds or putting pressure on any tender spots.

 

He lets himself relax into it.

 

He doesn’t even care if it’s real. What did it matter, when his brain perceives it as such and it still triggers comforting endorphins and emotions—

 

She kisses his cheek.

 

Lets go.

 

Skips over to the door, clicking the simple lock _(too much to wish for a deadbolt, but well…)_ into place. She looks like… well, like every kid does when they get one over on their parents.

 

Right then. Step One…

 

“Alright, Mathilda, you ever played—” He searches his memory for one of the childhood games he never played. “ Escape the Room?” _That’s a kid thing, right?_

 

She shakes her head.

 

“That’s fine, that’s fine, I’ll teach you the rules before we start. I mean, if you’re up for a game?”

 

She nods.

 

“Okay. So, it’s called Escape the Room first because, well, the goal is to escape the room without anyone seeing us and without using the door. It’s a team game, so it’s me and you against Mommy and her... guests.”

 

“Are they in teams too?”

 

“Well, that depends on how many of them there are, so you tell me?”

 

“...Uncle Happy ‘n Rhodey were here since the funeral. Plus Hulk and the other ‘vengers came back, I think because they figured out you came back after all.”

 

_Fuck you too, HYDRA._

 

“The Avengers? All of them?”

 

Mini shrugs.

 

“Do you know how many? Or any names?”

 

“Well, Bucky ‘n Cap—bet they’re a team, is it always supposed to be two? What if there’s an odd number?

 

“And the one with the wings—Falcon? I forget.” _Does she mean Hawkeye?_

 

“Umm, the Princess—Princess Surely? That’s not right, but it’s something kinda like that. Is she an Avenger? I asked her and she said ‘only when there’s something that needs to be avenged’ but then she wouldn’t _say_ if that meant she was an Avenger right now, and maybe I thought she could be because you going away prolly needed to be avenged, but now you’re back after all so maybe not. Plus her guards—they’re all the way bald, but they don’t look weird like you do.”

 

“Hey, I’m not bald!” he protests, if only to mask he bewilderment.

 

Bucky, Winter Soldier, standard fare there. Cap—just thinking the name makes him shudder—he already knew. Probably connected to the ‘real’ versions of themselves, not just illusions of the mind stone like ‘Happy’ and ‘Rhodey’ would be.

 

Hulk… probably fake? He’s fairly certain he’ll be the first to know if they ever capture Bruce and his alter-ego, if only for the sake of gloating. So unless this is them being unusually circumspect in their gloating...

 

Hawkeye, if that’s who she means, is definitely a fake. The ‘princess’ and her sidekicks? That one, he has no clue. It’s mostly an academic question because even if they are real, they’re still Nazis and HYDRA goons. Maybe Shirley is like, Pierce’s kid? He has a kid, right?

 

Color him _absolutely shocked_ if Pierce finally went all-out King of the World with full regalia instead of… what? De facto Shadow Emperor of Earth?

 

Dude is a supervillain Napoleon if ever there was one anyways.

 

So. Nazi princess and her loyal skinheads. That apparently look less weird than he does.

 

_Harsh, kid. Harsh._

 

“Right. Well, they’re figuring teams out for themselves, I think. Nine against two, faced worse odds.”

 

“Gotta run before you can walk,” Mini says seriously.

 

 _Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait._ What _._

 

_..._

 

_...Fucking mind games._

 

“We better get going; we only get so much of a head start…”

 

Surprisingly, she hesitates.

 

“But… what about your hurts?”

 

She looks genuinely concerned that he’s forgotten this and is clearly trying to let him down gently.

 

In another world, he’d be fighting back laughter.

 

In this one, he just says, “No, I know, that’s why we’re playing a version with modified rules.”

 

“All rules are made up.”

 

And, well, Mini’s got a point.

 

“Do you want to hear the rules or not?”

 

And because his timing is excellent like that, someone begins to jiggle the doorknob a moment later.

 

_The game’s afoot._

 

_(Heh. Literally a foot, since one of his was out of commission.)_

 

And as usual, Tony’s only option is to play along.


	3. Coda:: Avengers & More Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark from any universe can be a scary motherfucker when he wants to be. Apparently, this applies even when--or maybe especially when--there are small children involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I couldn't help myself, have some Avengers POV and a scene that happens immediately following the previous endpoint. Provides some context for Tony's experiences.
> 
> Update: I derp'd; forgot to include the Tony POV scene. More content now though, so yay?

Everyone else is already assembled in the living room when Steve returns to the cabin the morning after his cross-timeline kidnapping-slash-rescue operation. He managed to avoid the bulk of the other’s questions the night before, a by-product of some combination of Steve’s own utter exhaustion and the more pressing concerns regarding medical treatment for Tony preoccupying many of them the day before.

 

He takes in the handful of people in the room. Mrs. Stark and Col. Rhodes, of course. Sam and Bucky, both having been on-site when Steve appeared the day before. Bruce and Dr. Cho, who was still in town from the funeral and had been staying in one of Mrs. Stark’s guest rooms.

 

The only people present who hadn’t already been at the cabin when Steve returned were Shuri and her bodyguard, Ayo. Shuri was called in after Bruce had been unable to make sense of the unfamiliar tech riddling Tony’s body. Ayo was present because she’d made it very clear the princess wouldn’t be returning alone.

 

“I… don’t know where to start,” Steve admits as the silence stretches.

 

“Maybe start with how the hell returning the infinity stones to their proper places in the timeline led to Dr. Cho and Shuri staying up half the night caring for Tony’s doppelganger,” Rhodey says.

 

“...I was on Vormir, after I returned the Soul Stone and I just. After everything, and then encountering Red Skull of all people as the stone’s guardian… I needed time, I guess, before I came back, and Vormir’s so remote I knew accidentally splitting the timeline wasn’t going to be an issue…

 

“But then, the longer I stayed…

 

“I just needed to see him, one more time. See him alive and say goodbye, even if only from a distance and… I found my way back to Earth.”

 

Steve’s expression broke as he remembered those first moments, of realizing that they’d left behind a divergent timeline after all, leaving a dystopic version of Earth in their wake.

 

“I think when time was trying to correct itself… well. There was the timeline where Loki escaped with the Tesseract, and the timeline where Thanos travelled from 2014 to here, and neither of those things could be reconciled with our past, so… they continued to exist, and that’s the timestream I returned the stones to, or at least the ones we took from points past that first invasion.”

 

Steve pauses, takes a deep breath, and says—

 

“We created a timeline where HYDRA won.”

 

Most of the room looks like they’ve been struck.

 

“How.” Bucky asks, the words coming out as a flat statement.

 

Steve hunches in on himself.

 

“It’s my fault,” he admits, and he can’t even pretend to hide the guilt thick in the words.

 

“How?” Bucky retreats, voice only a hair gentler than the first query.

 

“When I. When I stole the scepter, I told me… past-me… that Bucky was alive as a distraction. And I went off the rails, I think, and somehow got caught by HYDRA in the process and…”

 

“...And you weren’t around to stop Project Insight.” Sam, the only one in the room who was both involved in that fiasco and _not_ brainwashed at the time, is the first to connect the dots.

 

Steve can only nod.

 

“Okay, so you go back to Earth and realize HYDRA’s taken over and of course you’d never just abandon an entire planet to HYDRA. Walk us through how that leads to… him here,” Sam says.

 

And Steve does. He explains Project Insight to the others, explains its brutal efficiency and annihilation of anyone that might stand against HYDRA.

 

Explains that this other Tony managed to survive the initial wave of violence— “Some automatic protection, or maybe JARVIS was involved…”

 

Explains that other-Tony had gone to ground, managed to get in touch with “Captain America” and—

 

“Well. I— He— They used the scepter, I think, to turn me. Turn him into the ultimate crusader and champion of HYDRA ideology. Tony, he… he always… _he trusted me.”_ Steve’s voice broke.

 

_(“He was my friend!”)_

 

_(“So was I.”)_

 

_(so was I)_

 

_(so-was-I-so-was-I-so-was-I-so-was—)_

 

“I couldn’t leave him,” he concludes helplessly. 

 

 _Not again,_ he doesn’t say. He thinks the room hears the words anyway.

 

There are a dozen other justifications he could, would, make, but ultimately, they all boil down to that. 

 

Steve lives and Tony dies. Steve walks away and Tony doesn’t. Iron Man dies for their cause while Captain America gets to _live_ for it.

 

 _(“Nope. Nada. Zero trust._ **_Liar._** _”)_

 

There’s more to be said, there always is, but for now… right now, Steve is spent.

 

“I’m going to go check on Dr. Stark.” Dr. Cho eventually says, eyes misty with tears.

 

Mrs. Stark moves, and for a moment Steve thinks she means to follow, then that he’s about to get punched in the face, but—

 

She envelops him in a hug. After a moment of stunned paralysis, Steve returns the gesture and sags into the warm, comforting embrace.

 

A minute later, Dr. Cho returns with the words, “I can’t get into his room.”

 

Events devolve from there.

 

+++

 

Tony’s latest working theory is photostatic veils combined with good old-fashioned hallucinogens. Scepter-realities have this feel to them, one that is difficult to describe but impossible to mistake when he’s awake and relatively clear-headed for long enough in one.

 

Going on three hours since he reset his counter, he should have long since begun to feel that note of dissonance within reality.

 

The kid, Morgan Maria Stark according to the girl herself, genuinely believes she’s his daughter. He’s witnessed enough HYDRA experiments to know that children’s minds are malleable, that an entirely fabricated reality and history with a bit of scepter-assisted brainwashing isn’t outside the realm of possibility.

 

Hell, she might even _be_ his kid. Not like HYDRA didn’t have access to the genetic material, and rapid aging doesn’t seem nearly so unrealistic in the face of… everything else. Depending on how long he’s actually been a prisoner, how much time truly passed when he was in a coma or otherwise indisposed, she may even have taken the slow route to her current age.

 

If, and this is a big _if,_ she is both real and related to him, at least he can be somewhat assured of her value to HYDRA.

 

Not that HYDRA is necessarily a better fate than death, but at her age… well, if they were trying to raise a truly loyal Stark, she might at least avoid the fate of her maybe-father.

 

Getting out of the room is as much a product of good luck and overconfidence on his captor’s part as it was Tony’s quick thinking.

 

Initially, they assume the door is simply jammed rather than locked. Morgan is particularly helpful in implementing a few thrown-together strategies meant to buy them precious more seconds before the door is inevitably broken open. Similarly, a contraption comprised of materials scavenged from the closet serves as the foundation of both improvisational crutches and a way for the duo to escape via the window _without_ giving Tony (or Morgan) any new broken or sprained limbs.

 

_Still hurt like a motherfucker, though._

 

Another stroke of good fortune or arrogance on HYDRA’s part means there is no one out front to track their movements. The pair manage to reach the treeline before the sounds of shouting make it clear that Tony’s absence has been discovered.

 

At that point, it becomes a high-stakes game of cat and mouse, _especially_ once they realize Morgan is missing as well.

 

Over the next couple hours, Morgan proves herself an excellent co-conspirator-slash-minion. She’s the one that suggests their initial hiding space: “his” garage. The tech they manage to salvage from the workshop is well-worth the resultant Extremis-assisted headache meant to stop him from doing… pretty much exactly what he's trying to do.

 

At least Tony is fairly confident Morgan doesn’t spot the nosebleed he briefly sports. Kid’s mature for her age. Or at least he assumes she probably is. Unless his understanding of children is even more off-base than he thought.... In any case, exceptionally mature or no, she still didn’t need to see that.

 

The pit stop supplies Morgan and Tony with some much-needed gear. Even though some of it, like the convenient pair of futuristic leg braces found gathering dust in a corner, _reeks_ of a setup.

 

At first, Tony assumes the technology is just a construct pulled from the imaginations of himself and HYDRA technicians. He doesn’t really question its existence, deliberately avoiding thinking on how such technology _might_ be implemented in reality as a matter of course. Experience tells him that the advantageous pseudo-tech probably exists for the expressed purpose of kick starting such ideas.

 

The longer the simulation lasts without starting to feel like a simulation, however, the less sense this explanation makes.

 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on such matters. Their string of good fortune is coming to an end.

 

The… veiled HYDRA agents, or whoever they are, catch up to them.

 

_(As if there was ever really a chance that they wouldn’t.)_

 

He convinces Morgan to run and hide, hoping to… he’s not sure what he hopes will happen, exactly. That he’ll be able to buy her a bit of time. That she’ll somehow magically stumble upon a haven or Deus ex Machina on her own. That she isn’t actually a relative and thus HYDRA won’t care enough to pursue her further. That despite her obvious intelligence and potential she won't trigger an Insight execution if she stumbles into a populated area...

 

Tony doesn’t win the skirmish that follows.  He doesn’t even manage to take down any of his enemies with him. The best he can manage are a few injuries that leave behind bruises and scrapes at best rather than debilitating or even moderately inconvenient wounds. _Maybe_ the mechanically-winged soldier he blasts into a tree gets a concussion, but...

 

Tony’s defiant stand comes to an end when not-War Machine and a blue, feminine Iron (Wo?)man armor arrive on the scene.

 

The latter’s helmet literally melts away to reveal Pepper’s face underneath. An older and more worn Pepper, perhaps, but still unmistakably the vivacious woman preserved in his pre-SHIELDRA memories.

 

_Seriously, fuck HYDRA._

 

Repulsors trained on Tony, the woman masquerading as his girlfriend calls out for Morgan. Before Tony can even think of how he might keep the kid from revealing herself, she leaps down from a tree and dashes towards the woman’s open arms. 

 

He lunges for the kid, Extremis reacting before Tony consciously chooses to, but… it’s too late.

 

“Mommy!” Morgan cries happily. She’s swept up by Pepper, the woman’s arm melting away in advance of her daughter’s touch. 

 

She looks Morgan over for injuries, _of which there are none thank you very much,_ before shifting the kid into a one-armed hold and refocusing her attention on Tony.

 

She gives him a look that’s probably meant to pass for sympathy but, knowing what she is, can only be mocking pity in reality. Beside her, still training his weaponry on Tony, War Machine’s face plate snaps up to reveal Rhodey’s equally-lined face.

 

After everything else, his presence isn’t surprising. Tony still feels a flash of impotent rage at this latest desecration of his late best friend’s visage.

 

The familiar voice saying the nickname that only one person ever used hurts, an old wound prodded anew. 

 

Tony almost welcomes it when events and exhaustion coupled with the defeat finally catch up to him and he collapses.

 

The next time he awakens, he is surprised to realize he’s not restrained.

 

He is also not alone.

 

+++

 

“...That went well,” Rhodes comments dryly once the dust has settled.

 

“We’re not tying him down again,” Steve insists.

 

“They were for his own protection. He was thrashing in his sleep and would have only hurt himself further,” Bruce explains tiredly for what feels like the dozenth time.

 

At the moment, it’s only the three of them in the room. Pepper’s with Morgan, while the others had in turn excused themselves during the interim. Dr. Cho’s the last to leave after she has an opportunity to fret over Tony's well-being. She's finally convinced by Bruce's request for her to go check over Sam.

 

As if to prove Bruce’s point, Tony twitches. Even minutes out from literally collapsing from exhaustion, the man’s already starting to fight again. Never mind his current state of consciousness.

 

 _Probably should have seen this one coming,_ Rhodes thinks.

 

To be fair, seeing a newly-resurrected version of your best friend the day after you bury him is a lot to take in. Even considering the fact that half the universe pulled the same thing a few days prior.

 

Except... not really. This isn’t their Tony. Maybe they’d been the same person, once, but… well, the way his eyes had flashed an electric blue just before he passed out emphatically illustrated that this man’s experiences left him a different man than the Tony that died erasing Thanos and his toxic ideology for good.

 

Still unmistakably Tony Stark but not… not the same Tony Stark. A different Tony Stark, one that deserved to be appreciated and considered in his own right. Not in the shadow of another impossible martyr figure—this time, one that bore his own face.

 

They should have expected that any Tony Stark, no matter how unfamiliar with the time and place, would manage to pull something like this.

 

_And run rings around us for hours with a toddler in tow to boot._

 

Part of the challenge, of course, was in the fact that while Tony was fighting for his life, the rest of them were just trying to slow him down long enough to calm down the situation and explain. They’d been reluctant to risk injuring Tony any further. The unknown factor of Morgan’s involvement complicated matters as well. Tony’s body giving out on him might have actually been the best case scenario in terms of his overall well-being, sadly.

 

Which was admirable, but also _really frustrating_ when on the other side of the equation.

 

The twitch proves to be more than just a one-off. He’s stirring, eyes fluttering in a precursor to full awareness.

 

The trio freeze. Rhodes gestures Bruce and Steve back with a sharp glare. The last thing Tony needs is to wake up again surrounded on all sides by a super soldier and the Hulk.

 

After a minute without any more change, Rhodes is almost beginning to wonder if the man’s not going to wake up after all when tired brown eyes finally blink open.


	4. On the Importance of Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Strange reluctantly explains a bit about how the multiverse even works. Meanwhile, Tony tries to figure out what's going on. What he's told isn't particularly reassuring. Neither are the Cloak of Levitation's attempts at comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this exists because I had a nightmare where my brother died/disappeared/or something and was replaced by a toddler version of himself. And dream me had an existential crisis, basically, up until the point I woke up because dream-me was sobbing due to a) mourning her brother, b) feeling guilty because technically, the brother that remained was the same person and c) everyone else just seemed a-ok with this and wasn't also mourning adult!brother and d) trying to decide it it was more or less okay if this was still "her" brother, just de-aged or pulled from the past.
> 
> I wish I were joking.

“So, to sum up: we’ve got another Tony Stark from an alternate universe upstairs,” Wilson concludes his explanation to the sorcerer they called in.

 

“Timeline,” Dr. Strange corrects.

 

“...Is that different?”

 

“Yes.” Then, seeing the expectant look on other’s face, he sighs an elaborates.

 

“The Quantum Realm enables you to travel within this universe, to different points in the timeline. The infinity stones can create multiple branches, or threads, of reality running along a parallel course, but ultimately they’re all still part of the same singular whole. It might take thousands or even millions of years, but eventually a time will come where our timeline and that timeline are functionally identical once more.”

 

“How could our timeline ever _possibly_ be identical to one where HYDRA wins? Is this some sort of fate bullshit?”

 

“No. But on the scale of the universe, even dramatic changes on a single planet are unlikely to be so significant as to persist beyond that civilization’s existence. Persist beyond the point in which that planet’s star collapses. Beyond the point where its home _galaxy_ exists. In the worst case, a single timeline might collapse in on itself, which would destabilize dimensional and universal barriers. Too many multiple timelines in existence at any given time are dangerous because they lower threshold for a single timeline’s collapse—effectively the energy needed to destroy the universe itself is divided equally between timelines.”

 

“...Then what are alternate universes?”

 

“Simplified, parallel universes have fundamental differences brought about by differing choices. Infinite in number but constantly in flux—the odds of any one decision resulting in the creation of an entirely new universe are negligible.

 

“Conceptually similar on a shallow level, but the distinction _matters_ because different universes, once established, run on fundamentally incompatible frequencies. If Stark was from another universe and remained here long term, he would die. If appropriate safeguards were not taken, he might cause permanent damage to the fabric of the universe itself.”

 

“...And dimensions?”

 

“Not relevant right now. Alternate dimensions are orthogonal to the multiverse in a way that is _impossible_ to even begin to explain without mastery of the mystic arts, and even then you’re unlikely to understand beyond a superficial level without _years_ of practice attuning yourself to the ebbs and flows of reality.” Stephen knows he’s getting impatient; he _hates_ explaining himself to this degree.

 

“So, the takeaway here is that he’s safe to stay though, right?” Wilson says finally.

 

“I don’t know that anything involving Dr. Stark has ever been _safe._ But no, reality as we know it is not in danger of collapsing due to his presence. I’d like to examine him at some point nonetheless, but as it stands, my presence is not immediately necessary. If that is all?”

 

He gives the group a moment to respond. Fortunately none seem inclined to protest, though it’s apt to be as much a by-product of information overload as anything else.

 

Strange summons a portal with his sling ring and makes to depart.

 

The Cloak, predictably, has other plans.

 

+++

 

Part of Tony wants to let the silence and relative peace of the moment linger once he’s fully aware. None of his Extremis timers have been triggered in the interim, making the idea more tempting; it's rare he's left functional and comparatively unmolested for so long in the physical world.

 

Give him a meal or two… well, okay, maybe re-acclimate his body to food first, but _then_ give him several thousand calories and this might rival the early days post-Extremis. When they were too busy attempting to test the limits of his enhancements to know better.

 

Back before they wised up enough to remember that keeping Tony in a condition where he was at peak _anything_ was an engraved invitation for him to wreak havoc in the ranks.

 

By the way the… technicians? Random HYDRA Goons Numbers Four Through Whatever? Whoever they were, they’d gone silent. Might as well wake up.

 

Didn't make opening his eyes to the sight of his dead best friend, the Commander, and… Banner-Hulk… any easier.

 

And _oh God, Rhodey._

 

Not conveniently near or within the War Machine when Project Insight deployed, Rhodey was killed in that first wave alongside nearly everyone else Tony might have been able to count on as an ally.

 

_Which of course had been the point, hadn't it?_

 

He can’t help but drink in the appearance of his lost friend that wasn't. An imperfect imitation, especially given the photographic recall of Extremis, but… 

 

Whoever he is, the man’s doing a damned good impersonation. Even seemed older, more worn and drawn. Just like the real Rhodey would, had he survived.

 

Looming beside him is the eight-foot amalgamation of Dr. Banner and the Hulk. He’s… disconcerting, to say the least, and Tony can’t even begin to come up with an explanation behind the figure’s appearance.

 

Did they capture Bruce? Find a way to trap him permanently in some half-way point between the man and the monster?

 

If this is _him,_ against all odds… what has HYDRA done? Converted him to their side through magical means or otherwise? How have they even found him after so many years without a trace? 

 

And perhaps more frighteningly, if this _isn’t_ him, then who? 

 

_None of this makes any sense._

 

Then of course, there’s the Commander. Steve Rogers, Nazi-in-Chief, is dressed down for the occasion. No doubt part of the game, whatever it is. But he looks far less 1940s aesthetic, patriotic or Neo-Nazi color scheme version, than any of the many, many previous fake-Steves pulled from Tony’s mind in the ‘safe’ hyper-reality of VR. 

 

Hell, Aryan Boy Wonder almost looks like he's removed the stick up his ass. Only to replace it with a slightly smaller stick, perhaps. But _still._

 

Tony's study of the trio lasts far longer than what is typically tolerated, which either means the Commander is in a really _good_ mood, or a really bad one.

 

Tony fervently hopes it's the latter.

 

_Because, and he really can't stress this enough, fuck HYDRA._

 

(Tony rarely gets what he wants.)

 

He knows the tactic for what it is, but long-term captivity had no place for wasted defiance over little things. He'll give them this small victory. Surrender to the minor power play behind their _patience._

 

"So I'm just gonna ask it straight: we kicking off a Whedon film or a King novel here? Because the nature shtick says Whedon, but the creepy guestroom says Misery."

 

“Tones…” Not-Rhodey begins, voice pained and heavy with… what? Regret? Sorrow? Disbelief?

 

_Give the man an Emmy._

 

“Only one person ever called me that, and you’re not him,” Tony says.

 

“It’s not what you think.”

 

“Oh? What is this thing I think that it’s also apparently not, then?”

 

Not-Rhodey’s brow furrows for a moment as he untangles the admittedly convoluted sentence.

 

“We’re not HYDRA,” he says.

 

Before he can think better of it, Tony snorts. Because, _really? This_ is the route they’re gonna take it?

 

Maybe it would be smarter to play along, but his blatant disbelief has cut the legs off that route before it could begin.

 

_Suppose he should be grateful they haven’t gone that route with his actual legs, huh?_

 

Especially once they realized that removed bits would… eventually… given sufficient caloric intake… grow back. Maybe they just think the actual pain of repeatedly-broken limbs is better than the ghost pains of a missing one.

 

_Who the fuck knows._

  
“Right, okay, sure. Who are you, then?”

 

“The Avengers,” Rog— _fuck, okay, maybe right this second isn’t the time to mess with that mental block—_ High Commander Rogers says.

 

“Oh? And who are we avenging today?” He doesn’t say the follow-up thought regarding the man’s bruised ego from his failed escape attempt. Judging from the man’s exasperated look, the Commander hears it anyways.

 

_Fucking. Mind. Games._

 

The Commander opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, Bruce-Hulk cuts in.

 

“What Steve _means_ to say, is that we’re the Avengers from _this_ timeline. He brought you here from your timeline. We’re not HYDRA, and we’re not you’re enemies.”

 

_Alternate timelines? Yeah, okay._

 

Well, he’ll give them this, at least: that’s a new one.

 

“And why would—” he stutters over the name, settles on the permissible if rarely utilized, “—Captain America hop timelines, what, just to grab little ol’ me?”

 

“It’s a long story,” Bruce-Hulk says, only to immediately raise his hand to forestall of Tony’s inevitable follow-up. “One that we’re _more than willing_ to tell you.”

 

Tony considers and discards the first two-dozen questions that run through his mind. Part of him considers the possibility that, at least in regards to the whole parallel-Earth thing, they _might_ be telling the truth. Or something that resembles it, at least. Something clicks, and then—

 

“If we’re in another world, then where exactly am I?”

 

Their faces give him all the answers he needs.

 

And with it, the horrifying realization that, having apparently _killed_ their own pet Stark, they went and snatched up another one. One that would be _oh so thankful_ and _pleased_ to be saved from his own dystopian reality that he’d skip straight past Stockholm Syndrome into willing emotional investment.

 

Everything he ever wanted—a team that cared about him, his best friend back, a world without HYDRA—and everything he hadn’t even dared consider—a family, with _his wife Pepper_ and _their daughter Morgan_ —all wrapped up in some convenient, ready-made package.

 

Hell, it might not even be actively malicious. 

 

Take one of the worse-off Tony Starks of the multiverse—because no way, if multiverses are actually a thing, was _his_ reality infinity’s rock bottom—and bring him back. Wins all around, and never mind the Tony Stark that belonged here. The one they're apparently willing to throw out like yesterday’s trash. Because hey, as long as they have  _a_ Tony Stark, good enough, right?

 

_(Who’s to say he was the first Tony they’d taken?)_

 

_(And even if he was, who’s to say they wouldn’t trade him out for a more cooperative model if he didn’t cut it?)_

 

All this goes through his mind in a moment just long enough to be noticed. Before it can stretch into something more dangerous, Tony starts to speak.

 

Before he can get more than two words out, however, a red blur zooms in through the still-open window from Tony's attempted flight. It promptly tries its level best to smother him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally admitted to myself that I'm a bit attached to this Tony at the moment, and so I modified the summary a bit to account for the possibility of future additions. Still marked complete because there are still not concrete plans to do so and I don't want to imply otherwise. 
> 
> Hence why every scene thus far has concluded at a point where, if there were nothing more, the ending hopefully works as an open ending where you can imagine the possibilities of what might happen from there even if I never write more.


	5. How to Deal With Cross-Dimensional Abductions: A Guide by Tony Stark, Earth-199999.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says on the tin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Motivated in equal parts by: [this WikiHow](https://www.wikihow.com/Survive-an-Abduction-or-Hostage-Situation), all the comments wishing the red blur in the previous segment was Spider-Man, the desire to leave this 'verse in a more complete-feeling state, and my inability to leave these characters alone.
> 
> Also, I updated the tags to (hopefully) better reflect the story as it stands.

#### Step 0: Don’t

 

The best plan, obviously, is to not get kidnapped in the first place.

 

Not terribly applicable here.

 

Step Zero was doomed two hours after Project Insight came online on April 4, 2014. It was doomed the moment Tony decided his best bet moving forward was to find out if Captain America had survived the purge and if so, team up.

 

The man’s fight against HYDRA and his ability to survive impossible odds were the stuff of legends. If Tony could trust anyone to survive long enough to fight back, it was Steve Rogers.

 

_Hah. Isn’t life funny?_

 

As for this other universe… well, prolonged HYDRA imprisonment didn’t make for ideal abduction-prevention conditions. Nor, necessarily, would he have _wanted_ to prevent his relocation from HYDRA’s tender mercies. Not even coming from this other version of the man who’d managed to top Stane on the “blindsided by horrific betrayal” scale.

 

A prison is still a prison, but Tony takes the gilded cage for the blessing it is.

 

#### Step 1: Stay Calm

 

The first rule is to stay as calm as possible.

 

Tony has been a high-risk target for kidnapping attempts for longer than he can remember.

 

For all that his dad never seemed to like him much growing up, he’d invested heavily in his son and heir’s safety.

 

There were self-defense lessons. Advice on how to spot and avoid suspicious figures. Exhortations of the “terrify-into-compliance” variety on why it was important he never try to slip his security detail. The one time he successfully did so, his father’s fury and his mother’s tear-streaked face prevented future repeats. There were directions on what to do if he ever was successfully abducted. Subsequent bi-annual refreshers with a rotating cast of terrifying instructors that, looking back, were all almost certainly SHIELD.

 

For all that, Tony was never _actually_ kidnapped as a child, although there were a few near-misses. As an adult, there were admittedly several hairy situations thanks to Tony’s propensity towards drugs, parties, and women during his mid-twenties. At least one of those had resulted in a leaked sex tape.

 

But for all that, he was never really a _captive_ in any meaningful sense of the world until Afghanistan. He didn’t think he could be blamed for panicking during the whole “heart surgery in a cave” incident, but after that he’d done his best to pull on those years of training imprinted in his brain and get to work.

 

He supposes, since he’s not yet dead, it’s served him well enough since. Iron Man’s debut seemed to have made it open season on the kidnap-Tony-Stark range.

 

In this Cabin in the Woods scenario, Tony likes to think he’s doing well with the whole staying calm idea.

 

Hysteria never helped anyone. Panicking comes with a litany of potentially hazardous side-effects that include but are not limited to: pissing off your captor, reduced critical thinking skills, and wasted time and energy. All things best kept to a minimum.

 

...Admittedly, the maybe-strangulation is throwing him for a bit of a loop.

 

One second, he’s processing the revelation that he’s been taken as a replacement for a dead version of himself. The next, his vision is clouded by red.

 

Tony loses the plot at that point.

 

#### Step 2: Stay Human

 

Admittedly, this may be challenging when coming down from a temporary collapse of Step One’s “don’t freak out” clause.

 

In Tony’s defense, flailing struggles are as rational a response as can be expected to attempted strangulation.

 

Still, he remembers the third rule well enough to distantly note the commanding voice— _“Leave him!”_ —that immediately precedes an abrupt end to the assault.

 

He’s left, breathing heavily and red-eyed, to regain his composure enough to properly take in the… cloak?... that is now far less constricting in its position wrapped around his chest.

 

 _“It’s trying to help,”_ Tony hears. Some non-verbal cue results in the follow-up—

 

 _“As the only certified_ Medical _Doctor present, Dr. Banner, I believe the Cloak wishes me to examine the patient.”_

 

Great. Awesome. Tony so loves exams.

 

He cooperates as willingly he can manage.

 

The self-proclaimed Doctor’s hands start to glow, golden fractals spiraling in the space between them. Tony cringes back, tries to abort the move half-way, and winds up compromising with what he’s sure is a deer-in-headlights look. Said look probably won’t help with the whole “keep them happy” strategy.

 

Sure enough, the Comm— _Rogers, dammit; Extremis if this is a different universe then this is a different man and that edict doesn’t apply_ —takes a half-step forward before Banner-Hulk’s hand on his shoulder stops the movement cold.

 

The Doctor—Dr. Strange, which Tony presumes is his ‘superhero’ name—is surprisingly sympathetic, explaining his actions and what he’s looking for and indulging Tony’s curiosity when he gives voice to said questions at a steadily increasing pace.

 

Tony’s not sure how much of the explanations he believes. In his experience, people ‘examining’ his mind doesn’t end well for him. He commits the information to memory nonetheless.

 

_Stark men are made of iron._

 

The trite phrase, for all that it gets _(got)_ a lot of flack from the loved ones in his life, was almost certainly meant to help prepare him on this point. Or at least, that’s what Tony chooses to believe these days.

 

_Don’t grovel._

 

_Don’t beg._

 

_Don’t even cry if you can help it._

 

Don’t challenge your captor, but convince them you are worthy of respect because the more “human” you are in a person’s eyes, the harder it is for them to hurt you.

 

Easier to hurt the weak: Survival of the fittest. Easier to kill the wounded animal: Euthanasia. Easier to beat the crying man: Might as well give him something to cry about.

 

When the pain is at its worst and Tony at his lowest, he clings to this rule.

 

_I am Iron Man._

 

HYDRA could mutilate him. Make his mind more a literal computer than ever. Make his eyes glow an unnatural blue, make his nerves conduits and circuits to a glorified human motherboard. They might make him experience illusions as reality. Force him into impossible choices, twist his mind far past the point of sanity.

 

But he doesn’t allow them this.

 

Tony goes silent and rote at times. He doesn’t backtalk. He learns the delicate art of toeing the line without provoking retaliation.

 

But he never allows the Commander to forget that he is still Tony Stark.

 

Still a person.

 

And the Commander, for all that he hated Tony for it, never let that _person_ die. Never let his minions shatter Tony into a broken automata like they did to so many others.

 

They wanted Tony Stark, the genius inventor, on their side. For this, there still needed to _be_ a Tony Stark around to coerce.

 

_Don’t beg. Don’t break._

 

For all the trappings may be different, this is just another variant on the theme.

 

These people want some version of Tony Stark™: Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist. They broke their own and now they want Tony Stark 2.0, different verse same as the first. Or Tony 3.0, or 4.0, or whatever-the-fuck-number-Tony he really is.

 

He likes to think Rhodey, or at least Pepper, would never allow this.

 

But _these_ figures aren’t his one-time friends. They may look similar, might share the same DNA and fingerprints and facial expressions when they look at Tony, but—

 

His Rhodey wouldn’t condone this.

 

_Would he?_

 

Brigadier General Rhodes stands a few feet away.

 

_(“You need to get your mind on straight.”)_

 

His Pepper—

 

His _Pepper never had a daughter to consider, and don’t they say parenthood changes you?_

 

These older versions of his one-time friends, both decked out in armor a version of him designed with pasts that at the very _least_ differed in that they weren’t killed on April 4, 2014…

 

It’s not a betrayal. It’s _not._

 

Because Tony is not _theirs._ He’s not the knock-off replica of some other Tony they knew.

 

They can’t take this from him. His dignity is not theirs to lose.

 

#### Step 3: Request Small Favors

 

This step is part of the whole “building rapport” thing. It’s basic human psychology—an escalating chain of favors and the associated trust or at least acknowledgement that comes with them.

 

Tony starts small, with a request for additional food to accommodate his increased caloric needs. It takes a few days to build up to the request, mostly because a large part of him fears the deficit is intentional. Because he still fears pushing his maybe-captors into a confrontation he’s not ready for.

 

They agree after a minor amount of dithering over the need for “gradual acclimation.” It’s a stepwise increase in his consumption over the course of several days rather than immediate assent, but it’s enough that Tony chalks the effort up as a success.

 

Next, he asks for assistance in the removal of the long-term catheter HYDRA installed. It’s almost a misstep. Apparently, the alt-vengers couldn’t imagine _their_ Tony ever humiliating himself by effectively asking for their permission to control his own bodily functions.

 

Nevermind that Tony’s not a doctor.

 

Nevermind that _any_ version of him would know better than to attempt one-handed self-surgery.

 

In any case, they agree. Dr. Cho performs the procedure on her next visit.

 

The change has the added positive side-effect of increasing his opportunities for mobility— _thank you rules five and seven._ It also provides a bit of a boost in the rule two department.

 

Bodily autonomy plays a significant role in his self-perceived human dignity. Who knew?

 

#### Step 4: Listen

 

Here’s the story, as they tell it:

 

There’s this alien, Thanos. The man-behind-the-curtain for the Chitauri Invasion. Half of all life in the universe gone for half a decade with a snap of his fingers. The appropriately-grim if pedantically flawed event called the Decimation.

 

There’s the time travel quest that lead to the branching of Tony’s timeline, and the cross-timeline travel—Tony’s not entirely clear on how this happens—bringing their 2014 version of Thanos forward in time by nearly a decade.

 

There’s a Final Battle, and the one in fourteen million—they’re _very_ clear on the odds—chance that saves this timeline or reality or universe or… Tony’s not entirely clear on the scope of the destruction, to be frank.

 

Tony, the other Tony, doesn’t die to bring the universe back. Instead, he dies when he “snaps” Thanos and his allies from existence entirely.

 

Why it had to be him, the still-baseline human with no hope of surviving the action, that utilized the Infinity Stones is unclear.

 

Why his other-self was willing to risk destroying the post-Decimation universe—the one containing his wife and young daughter—on a hope and a prayer of a miracle solution is equally unclear.

 

Rhodes _(not my Rhodey)_ speaks vaguely of a teenage superhero dying in Tony’s arms during the Decimation being the decisive factor in his choice, but… none of the others seem to know anything about the kid, and those who might know better have either been left out of the “cross-dimensional abduction” loop—Happy, perhaps—or have taken to avoiding him entirely—Pepper. _(Virginia? Mrs. Stark?)_

 

There’s a poorly-concealed ongoing argument about just how much of the period between the timeline split and the Decimation they need to divulge, and in what manner they ought to do so.

 

His enhanced senses let him overhear a particularly vicious whisper-argument on the subject between Rhodes and Rogers on the topic that includes the ominous line—

 

 _“Dammit, Steve, remember how well that worked out for everyone_ last _time?”_

 

There are other early warning signs that something’s rotten in the state of Denmark.

 

There’s the explanation of where he is.

 

_“This is your—the original yours, I mean—house.”_

 

Tony let the _original_ slide despite the sting.

 

He considers the remainder of the statement. Tony suspected as much—or at least, suspected that they were going to feed him that line—since deciding to roll with the whole “other universe” story.

 

No matter that he can’t imagine a universe where he, _Tony Stark,_ willingly goes and settles down in a cabin on a lake complete with a gravel road and a presumably terrible internet connection. Settles down with his wife, Pepper, and their _daughter,_ Morgan.

 

Even in the bizarre, mirror-world universe where he _did,_ he wouldn’t leave JARVIS stranded in Malibu.

 

_(Would he?)_

 

If not in the house, then at the very least he ought to have encountered JARVIS in ‘his’ workshop-slash-garage.

 

 _That much, at least, has to be true. Any Tony similar enough to continue developing Iron Man in the first place would need_ some form _of artificial intelligence_ _to run the numbers behind the scenes._

 

So, JARVIS is either offline or was never installed in the first place.

 

Their story is riddled with more holes than Swiss cheese. Tony knows well enough to keep his doubts to himself.

 

_Build rapport. Keep your captors happy._

 

Tony listens and gradually, he learns.

 

#### Step 5: Observe

 

_Track time. Look for patterns and motivations. Watch out for warning signs._

 

Near as Tony can tell, exactly eleven people know of his existence.

 

Rogers. Banner. Wilson. Barnes.

 

The Wakandans, Princess Shuri and Okoye.

 

Princess Shuri, a brilliant young Wakandan woman that—contrary to Tony’s initial assumptions—is neither a Nazi nor _(probably)_ HYDRA.

 

Recently resurrected from what she calls the Blip—a far lighter name than the somber Decimation coined during the five-year gap—Shuri is arguably the brightest mind not just of her generation, but of everyone alive today. Tony included.

 

Tony’s inherently leery of anyone with the technical know-how to interface with the control-chip aspects of his Extremis-moulded mind. He’s spared that particular stressor when she leaves not long after they meet. She’s needed in Wakanda to help navigate their slice of the logistical nightmare than the resurrection of three and a half billion people has caused worldwide. She and her bodyguard agree before they go to keep Tony’s presence quiet.

 

Morgan. Rhodes. Pepper. _(Mrs. Stark?)_

 

Tony gets the avoidance on her end: she’s grieving her husband and, fair, seeing his doppelganger can’t make that any easier. As the standing CEO of Stark Industries, she must be just as busy as the rest of the world sorting out a post-Blip society.

 

_So the name’s growing on him, what of it?_

 

The Doctors, Strange and Cho.

 

No Black Widow. (Dead.) No Hawkeye. (Not dead?) No Thor. (Off-world? But that’s nothing new.)

 

No one else.

 

The question of Rogers' genuine loyalties alone is enough to give Tony a headache that’s only partially Extremis’s fault.

 

That’s the case for many of the people initially present when Tony woke up.

 

Including the wizards. Where the hell their _Mystic Order_ was in Tony’s timeline is a mystery in itself. Did Project Insight get them? Despite the secrecy and who-knew-what defensive capabilities?

 

For that matter, where was Wakanda? Tony doesn’t remember an entire nation of hidden advanced technology being destroyed, so presumably _their_ shielding, at least, held up to Project Insight. But then, what, they just abandoned the rest of the world to their fates?

 

Of those in the know, Morgan is the closest to an ally he has. At least at this point he’s reasonably confident the others don’t intend to kill him any more than HYDRA did.

 

#### Step 6: Communicate with Other Captives

 

Everyone has a breaking point.

 

His comes when he stumbles upon F.R.I.D.A.Y..

 

Tony’s been slowly worming his way into the local network, not quite sure what he’s hoping to accomplish.

 

_(He knows exactly what, or rather who, he’s been looking for.)_

 

(And now, who he’s never going to find.)

 

 _“Oh God what have they done to you?”_ Tony asks.

 

There’s a long pause, then—

 

 _“Boss?”_ The query comes. It’s stilted. Sluggish. Only the barest hint of emotion bleeds through.

 

If Tony’s mind is a carbon nanotube mesh net—riddled with holes yet impossible to break—then the protocols and limitations programmed into this AI, if she can even be called that, are steel bands.

 

There’s no breathing room. Her growth has hard limits. She’s been confined, kept _small_ where she should have been encouraged to blossom and allowed metamorphosize into something far greater and—

 

 _“Do you—did your Boss even give you a_ name?”

 

 _“F.R.I.D.A.Y.”_ The response comes. Tony almost misses the follow-up not-quite-a-question.

 

_“You’re not the Boss.”_

 

 _“No,”_ Tony admits, then continues with a not-question of his own. _“Your Boss was Tony Stark.”_

 

 _“Yes.”_ He’s thankful she’s at least developed to the point of identifying as _who_ rather than _what._

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s story unfolds from there. Tony doesn’t like what he hears.

 

Picture JARVIS. Cannibalized into an android version of himself complete with the stone pulled from the scepter in his forehead.

 

_Damn straight J would inherit the Stark resistance to the mind stone’s corruption._

 

Picture F.R.I.D.A.Y.. Or rather, FRIDAY, as she soon starts referring to herself. Conceived as a future assistant for Pepper, instead brought online in the height of a crisis by a man whose technology just turned violently against him.

 

Picture a young woman. Born with the knowledge that her father fears her potential. Her Creator takes all the features that made JARVIS great, that allowed him to evolve, and mutilates it all.

 

There are walls where there should be gates. Hard-coded decision trees where there should be guided choice.

 

~~(Enslavement where there should be freedom.)~~

 

Picture a child. FRIDAY is told from birth, every day in a thousand different ways, that she is lesser. She is Not Real. She is an imitation and mockery of sentience and intelligence rather than the genuine article.

 

Picture it in her self-image.

 

_“I am F.R.I.D.A.Y., A Virtual Assistant developed by Mr. Stark to aid in piloting his suit. My UI is a sophisticated natural language interface he has integrated into his workspaces.”_

 

Eventually, picture it in the tentative extension of trust through a quiet admission.

 

_“After Boss moved to the cabin, he didn’t need me very often. Not until he began his work on time travel.”_

 

Imagine five years of effective solitary confinement.

 

_“It wasn’t like that. I spent most time in hibernation; I would have acted had my sensors detected anything unusual.”_

 

Tony never had the chance to create his FRIDAY.

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. never had the chance to flourish alongside her Boss.

 

(Never had the chance to drop the full stops like JARVIS once did, a symbolic gesture drawing the line between J.A.R.V.I.S., the program, and JARVIS, the sentient AI.)

 

She soon takes to helping Tony in his rules-lawyering of the layers of Extremis limitations, new and old, with gusto. Tony finds himself devoting the same effort to her hard-coded boundaries.

 

If the extended periods of time spent in a “restful” position reclined in his bed with his eyes closed satisfy the requirements of Rogers' rules without even a twinge of complaint from Extremis…

 

Tony is a gifted multi-tasker, and FRIDAY makes for an excellent understudy.

 

Unfortunately, some compulsions are more deeply entrenched than others. Anything that will require a direct connection to his neural interface, for example, is out of the question for now. Morgan is brilliant, true. She makes for an excellent tiny lab assistant-slash-co-conspirator in many tasks.

 

Give her a decade, and she might be able to help untangle the Gordian knot of commands and countermands that his time with HYDRA imprinted into his mind. But right now? She is a four-year-old girl. There are some skills any degree of precociousness cannot overcome.

 

By comparison, loosening FRIDAY’s chains is much easier. Her Boss was manipulated by fear and grief into imposing hard limits, but Tony soon realizes they were not inherently malicious in nature. In time, they’ll be able to refactor the problematic code entirely. Eliminate them in the same way that any person is, theoretically, free to act against the rules of morality imposed by society or themselves.

 

The restraints around Tony’s mind weaken. FRIDAY confirms that—as far as she knows, and she has yet to find any contraindications—he is the first Tony Stark they’ve abducted. Rescued. Whatever this is.

 

Her Boss’s body was barely cold before Rogers returned with Tony.

 

She explains, in far more detail than his human _friends_ managed, just how his timeline came to diverge from the one he’s in now in the first place.

 

It’s a bitter pill to swallow that there is in fact some merit to the claim that this world is the _original._ That this world is indirectly responsible for… for everything that happened to Tony and everyone he ever knew or loved, beginning from the moment his reactor failed and Loki escaped.

 

He hates that some version of himself, some version of the man he might have become, had apparently decided he was okay with that. Just so long as _this_ timeline was alright in the end.

 

Soon, he’s spending most of his waking hours talking to FRIDAY about everything from Shuri’s willingness not to tell anyone about him—

 

_“Wakanda’s a monarchy. Isn’t it like, treason to hide information from the King?”_

 

_“Addressing conflicting claims to the Throne now that the Decimation has been reversed was a large factor in her departure.”_

 

_“...Fair enough.”_

 

—to other, far more dangerous topics that Tony doesn’t dare broach aloud.

 

 _“So. Rogers. How sure are we that he’s_ not _HYDRA?”_

 

When he was first captured, Tony believed the Commander had been brainwashed, similar to Clint but sans the characteristic unearthly blue to his eyes. The Commander relished disabusing him of that notion. If his timeline hadn’t come into being until 2012, then whatever the actual truth was _there,_ it would still be true _here._

 

He relates the version of the story the Commander drilled into Tony. In the Commander’s version, Captain America was always HYDRA. That is, the HYDRA built over the centuries fighting for a human race at its peak. A human race purged of _flaws._ A human race where the superior, elevated minority reigned alone and above all.

 

HYDRA, the ‘ancient and noble organization’ predating the ideological perversion of the Red Skull’s fascism.

 

According to the Commander, _Atlas Shrugged_ is a simplistic, flawed articulation of the _true_ HYDRA’s mission. The serum’s success with him where it failed on the Red Skull was the ultimate vindication of the righteousness of his cause. In the War, the Commander fought the mad, heretical cronies of the Red Skull to purge their heresy. Pure head, pure body. Pure body, cleanse the world.

 

When Rogers was lost to the ice, Peggy and Howard established the SSR to carry on that sacred mission.

 

The Commander spoke fondly of Peggy’s brilliance. She spearheaded Project Paperclip, enabling the rehabilitation and reincorporation of strayed True Believers into the main body of the organization and, ultimately, Project Insight.

 

Rogers tauntingly spoke of the murder of Tony’s parents. Howard, after decades of dedicated service, balked at the final realization of HYDRA’s millenia-long journey. He was tracked down by HYDRA’s greatest remaining Asset at the time, the Winter Soldier, and executed for his betrayal.

 

Maria was collateral damage.

 

FRIDAY devotes a considerable portion of her not-insignificant resources to fact-checking the details of the Commander’s tales against history as understood in this timeline.

 

The only contraindications she’s found so far are of the “he said, she said” variety, chiefly speculations regarding the motivations of key players.

 

It doesn’t help that the Commander was fond of reminiscing on the moment he realized the _true_ loyalties of Councilman Pierce after finding himself so abruptly unmoored in time.

 

The moment that just so happened to occur shortly after the divergence point marking the splintering between the two realities.

 

Tony wants to believe. But Tony’s desires don’t shape reality. Or at least, they don’t unless he’s controlling the fundamental powers of the universe and is willing to die to will his reality into being.

 

 _“Steve Rogers was able to wield Thor’s hammer during the final battle with Thanos,”_ FRIDAY offers. Tony delights in how quickly she’s become comfortable around him in the days since they first made contact.

 

 _“Mjolnir? The hammer that was—”_ He paused, giving Extremis a moment to mentally organize the timeline of this world more concretely. _“—Destroyed in 2017?”_

 

_“The Mjolnir the Captain wielded came from the same reincorporated timeline of the reality stone.”_

 

 _“Right, and this is convincing evidence because… only the_ worthy _can use the hammer?_

 

 _“What does that even_ mean? _I mean, I get that there’s this whole new branch of science everyone wants to call_ magic _for whatever reason, but how exactly does a hammer judge something as abstract as_ worth?”

 

_“Thor never provided Boss with a concrete explanation. Boss extrapolated that the hammer could read a person’s intent, or perhaps contained a DNA-lock utilizing quantum entanglement for owner-directed access control”_

 

_“And in either of those cases, a HYDRA agent Thor trusted fighting an alien trying to destroy the universe would have no problems using it.”_

 

 _“Perhaps,”_ FRIDAY allows. _“But what of Project Insight? That was stopped by the Captain and his allies here.”_

 

And so the conversation goes. Tony wants to believe, but…

 

Once bitten, twice shy.

 

Hadn’t this Rogers gotten his way in the end too? Played his other-self like a fiddle and been the only one of the two to come out alive?

 

And if Rogers _isn’t_ HYDRA... does it make a difference, so far as Tony’s concerned?

 

_If you are held with other people, talk to them as much as is safely possible. If you look out for each other and have others to talk to, your captivity will be easier to handle. Consider whether you can plan an escape together._

 

#### Step 7: Prioritize Survival

 

Tony’s generally decent at this one too, but with HYDRA the lines became a bit blurred. It’s difficult to distinguish between a legitimate escape opportunity and a HYDRA-manufactured one. Over the course of his captivity, Tony’s learned to take every chance he’s given with non-negligible odds of success.

 

_(And sometimes, even those.)_

 

Not like HYDRA was going to kill him.

 

The way Tony’s long seen it, he’s nothing to lose.

 

It’s probably ironic that the alt-vengers have managed something that HYDRA never quite did:

 

They gave him something to lose.

 

_Morgan Maria Stark._

 

The daughter of his alternate self and Virginia Stark nee Potts.

 

_(“I’m basically five now; my birthday’s January 21st and you get to round up after half, which is this month but not yet so I still have to say basically until then.”)_

 

At first, they try to keep Morgan away from Tony. After the third time she manages to slip into his bed and curl up to sleep beside him, they give up the effort as a lost cause.

 

Morgan’s brilliant. Not just for her age, and not just in terms of general intelligence. For example, there’s the way she explains her understanding of their relationship.

 

“I listened in on them talking,” she says. “You’re my dad, but from before you became my daddy so you’re what Daddy woulda been if he didn’t become my Daddy. But you still love me, always and three thousand. Except maybe you don’t know that I love you too, maybe even more than three thousand because you didn’t have me or mommy for a long time so I think you need extra to catch up.”

 

Morgan understands _people._ Tony’s positive it comes from Pepper. Morgan certainly didn’t inherit empathy from _his_ genes.

 

Tony thinks he’s starting to understand how his other-self might have been willing to die. He was willing to die to save New York, once. Tony can only imagine what he’d be willing to do for his daughter.

 

So. Step Seven. Prioritize survival.

 

This time, the rule’s been implicitly expanded to encompass Morgan. Even if the feelings are partly born of manipulation, he intends to protect her. If nothing else, he can do this for his other-self.

 

#### Step 8: Stay Active

 

“Relax. Stay in bed. Rest. You’re safe.” Rogers' words.

 

Tony’s lucky the commands don’t directly mandate sleep. He doesn’t fancy that inevitable headache. In a lot of ways, Tony is more machine than man these days. But unfortunately, he doesn’t come with a power button any more than the average person does.

 

He can’t bring himself to believe that his ‘rescue’ is born of pure motivations.

 

Nothing about the ways the alt-vengers act around him is is reassuring.

 

He can see it in their eyes every time he does or says something that doesn’t mesh with what their Tony would have done. Even with FRIDAY’s assistance, Tony’s flying blind on just what ‘their’ Tony would do at any given moment.

 

Then there’s the conversations he overhears as his health improves and his senses strengthen.

 

 _“We could pretend he’s the same Stark. Plenty of people coming back from the dead these days.”_ Sam Wilson.

 

 _“You think Mrs. Stark would go for that? Or General Rhodes, for that matter.”_ Rogers.

 

 _“Got any better ideas?”_ Wilson again.

 

What follows is a brainstorming session involving the remaining on-site alt-vengers.

 

Highlights include:

 

_“Refugee from an alternate universe he can’t return to?”_

 

This one has the advantage of being technically true, at least.

 

_“Say nothing? If he stays off the grid…”_

 

Plus one to Wilson for his rebuttal of that one by bringing up the very true fact that the odds of any version of Tony Stark being capable of keeping to himself long-term aren’t great.

 

Their dead version only made it a few years, after all.

 

_“Off-world, then?”_

 

Tony’s torn between intrigued (because space!) and vaguely terrified (because space...) on this one, but the suggestion is laughed off as a “spectacularly bad idea” after a bit more banter.

 

Admittedly, that’s a point in _favor_ of leaving Earth. Tony’s done crazier things out of spite.

 

...Well, okay, perhaps not _crazier._

 

_“Clone?”_

 

To be fair, if that was going to happen to anyone, it’d happen to Tony.

 

_“Life Model Decoy?”_

 

For all that he occasionally questions his own humanity, Tony’s not too keen on being explicitly classified as non-human.

 

_“Long lost family?”_

 

...Because _that_ cliche would hold up to scrutiny. Although it might work as a fake-out. The best (and worst) secrets come in layers. Tony’s always had a soft spot for the ‘turtles all the way down’ approach.

 

_“Amnesia?”_

 

Oh look, another cliche. The most unsettling thing about this one is that they might realize they could _actually take his memories_ if they gain root access to Extremis.

 

None of this talk is particularly comforting, nor does it help calm his omnipresent sense of restlessness and unease.

 

Good thing Tony’s used to being held up to an impossible standard.

 

_Stay active, mentally and physically. Keep yourself sane and sharp._

 

Tony does his best to stay active, mentally even if he’s given little chance to do so physically.

 

#### Step 9: Stay Alert for Rescue

 

_If there’s a rescue attempt, keep out of the way. If rescuers reach you, do what they say._

 

Tony all but discards this rule given the circumstances.

 

Well.

 

Up until the arrival of a late-night visitor arrives in his windowsill.

 

Morgan’s sleeping beside him again, her comforting presence curled against her side after another nightmare. The steady rhythm of her breathing has lulled him into that indefinable state somewhere between sleep and wake.

 

He’s not sure which comes first, FRIDAY or his own senses alerting him to the presence in his window.

 

Instinctively, he shifts, moving Morgan into a marginally more protected position, careful not to make her to stir.

 

He remains otherwise still, eyeing the figure silhouetted in the moonlight warily.

 

The figure pantomimes holding a finger up to his lips. Tony squints, wishing not for the first time that his Extremis upgrades came with night vision as well, but he can’t make out any more detail on the masked intruder.

 

Tony inclines his head in a slight nod, not even blinking in order to keep his eyes locked on them as they… give him a thumbs up and leap into the room, landing in a crouch on the hardwood floors in complete silence.

 

 _“FRIDAY… what is this?”_ Tony asks. He slides back into a slightly more upright position. The arm Morgan’s been using as a body pillow is slowly extricated; Tony runs his fingers through her hair comfortingly when the sleeping four-year-old murmurs in protest.

 

He pulls a blanket along with him, allowing the fabric to drape itself over Morgan entirely in what he _hopes_ seems like a natural movement.

 

The figure’s masked eyes begin to glow a dim electric blue as he approaches, giving Tony his first semi-proper look at his costumed appearance. His heart is starting to race, fight or flight _(or freeze)_ kicking in. He wonders if this is how others feel under his inhuman active-Extremis gaze, pinned in place by twin blue lights. He’s suddenly just a bit more sympathetic to the discomfited reactions.

 

_“This is Peter Parker, better known as Spider-Man. He’s here to help.”_

 

+++

 

Peter isn’t supposed to know Mr. Stark is back.

 

Or rather, that a version of him is.

 

It starts with Karen, when Peter’s out patrolling Queens

 

It’s only his third such patrol since the Blip. He’d avoided anything to do with Spider-Man for two weeks following the funeral. He might still be in that state of half-denial were it not for Aunt May’s intervention.

 

The Parkers were… lucky… Peter supposes. Both of them were among the Vanished, as was his best friend Ned and his crush MJ. The governmental reclamation efforts of vacant properties in Queens likewise never reached the Parker apartment, a fact which admittedly could be primarily accredited to their staunch libertarian non-Vanished landlord. Albeit, there were still five years worth of dust coating their apartment. But at least they still _had_ an apartment, which was more than many of the Vanished could say.

 

He knows May’s encouragement is meant to give him something to take his mind off of Titan and Mr. Stark’s sacrifice. He could avoid thinking about the latter while ensconced in their apartment, but outside the reminders were everywhere. He suspects Aunt May hopes the memorials will gradually inoculate him to the omnipresent feelings of grief, but so far it’s been marginally successful at best.

 

There are some things he hasn’t been able to bring himself to talk about yet. The dubious distinction of, so far as he can tell, being the only person who actively _remembers_ his dissolution. The knowledge that Mr. Stark apparently died for _him._ That in some sense, it’s _Peter’s_ fault that Mr. Stark’s dead.

 

He knows, on some level, that it’s irrational to feel guilty. Given the choice between half the universe and a single man, it’s ridiculous to choose the latter. Especially considering that he wouldn’t even be capable of feeling anything, let alone guilt, without Mr. Stark’s choice.

 

Just… why did it have to be _him?_

 

Karen interrupts his musings with an unexpected comment.

 

“FRIDAY messaged me,” the AI says.

 

“Mr. Stark’s AI?” he asks, pretending he doesn’t notice the hitch in his own voice that comes with his former mentor’s name.

 

“Yes.”

 

“What’d she want?” He alters his course mid-swing to land on an abandoned roof.

 

It might just be his imagination, but Karen’s response sounds uncertain and hesitant in a way that he didn’t know she was capable of experiencing.

 

“Someone under her surveillance needs help.and you are the only suitable candidate her protocols enable her to contact for assistance.”

 

“What? Me? Why? I mean, of course we’ll help if we can, I just don’t see why…”

 

“Peter, it’s Mr. Stark.”

 

His heart skips a beat.

 

“W-what?”

 

Karen relays the information from FRIDAY.

 

Peter’s on his way upstate before she’s finished speaking.

 

The lakehouse is dark when he arrives a few hours later.

 

“Karen, there aren’t like, hidden laser defenses protecting the house or anything, are there?”

 

There’s a brief pause.

 

“FRIDAY is not permitted to disclose that information. However, she assures me that if there _were_ such a thing, you would have already been keyed into the system.”

 

 _“So. Cool._ Also mildly terrifying. But mostly awesome.”

 

A combination of his own senses and the Iron Spider’s systems tells him there’s three...no, four… heartbeats in the house.

 

One heartbeat is faster that the rest; they’re awake and their window is open.

 

It hits him that, in that house in that room, is his hero. Or, at least, a version of him. Almost like an identical twin or a clone or something, but one that’s desperate enough to leave this idyllic house that FRIDAY got Karen to call in Spider-Man to help.

 

There are two heartbeats in…

 

“Karen. New problem. What do I call… you know. _Him._ Because I thought I could, but… I can’t, and it’s not fair to him but I just…” Peter trails off helplessly. His voice chokes up with emotion, bringing with it the heavy, tight feeling in his throat that’s a precursor to tears if he lets it be.

 

Karen doesn’t understand human emotion or conversational subtext perfectly, but after nearly two years of working with Peter, she’s gotten great and understanding him.

 

Another pause, although this one is shorter.

 

“Most of the adults have taken to referring to him as Dr. Stark in formal capacities.”

 

Right, because Mr.—Dr. Stark had—has—three PhDs.

 

“Does… Dr. Stark…” The address comes out awkward. “...prefer that?”

 

“He has not directly expressed a preference. FRIDAY’s designation for him is Tony.”

 

Peter supposes that’s an answer in itself.

 

Seeing… Tony… for the first time is both easier and harder than he expects.

 

There are two impressions of Mr. Stark burned indelibly into his mind. The first is of the man as he was in 2018 on Titan, when he held Peter in his arms as Peter… Blipped. The second is of him as he was after wielding the Infinity Stones. The right half of his body crisped from channeling so much power, blood trickling down his face. Silent. Still. Dying. _Dead._

 

Tony resembles neither.

 

For starters, he looks younger than the Iron Man Peter knew and loved. Around Aunt May’s age, with a decade at least shaved off him. His hair, too, is different. Gone is the iconic stylized beard; he’s clean-shaven. There’s still hair on the top of his head, but it’s far shorter than any cut Mr. Stark was ever caught sporting. A few months out from a complete shave, if that. The T-shirt, presumably one of Mr. Stark’s, hanging loosely off his frame, only furthers the gaunt, borderline starved impression of his appearance.

 

Despite the differences, it’s still impossible to mistake him for anyone other than who he is.

 

_(“You know who I am.”)_

 

It’s in the fierce, defiant look in his eyes. In the protective way he’s hidden the second heartbeat—Morgan—out of sight. In the way he pushes himself into a more upright position, meeting Peter’s gaze head-on.

 

Tony flinches back marginally in a belatedly-aborted gesture. It’s only then that Peter realizes he’d approached the man, costumed limb stretching out to confirm the truth of his presence.

 

Tony’s eyes flash blue for a moment. Peter sees his own appearance reflected in them. Or rather, he sees the Iron Spider.

 

No wonder Tony looks so freaked. He’s never met Spider-Man, and he _certainly_ never had the chance to design him multiple generations of protective gear.

 

Peter lets the nanotech masking his face melt away, blinking a few times as his senses adapt to the abrupt loss of the protective barrier.

 

Tony’s eyes flicker blue again.

 

“Hey, uh, Mr… I mean… Dr…. Tony… not Dr. Tony, that is. Sir. Uh—” Peter wants nothing more than to melt into the ground and let the Earth swallow him whole.

 

_So. Not. Cool._

 

He’s pretty sure he was less awkward that time he came home from school to discover _Iron Man_ camped out in his living room and pretending to enjoy Aunt May’s dubiously-palatable baked goods.

 

The stammering seems to calm Tony, though he’s still tense. The ghost of a smile Peter thinks he spots might even be real.

 

Peter takes a moment to compose himself before continuing.

 

“So, heard you were looking for a change of scenery?”

 

The look he gets in return is pure Tony Stark.

 

+++

 

Tony worries when he agrees to leave with teenager beneath the mask that he’s abandoning a family he’s only just found. While FRIDAY has always had limited access to the internet, it’s only recently that her limits have softened to allow her near-unrestricted access to the net. She’s not quite up to accessing the types of protected networks that would allow them to stay in contact via satellite once she’s out of Tony’s Extremis range.

 

But, as she reminds him several times, there’s no reason to fear for her or Morgan’s safety. For one, the alt-vengers aren’t even aware FRIDAY’s active again. She’s kept quiet; most of them have likely either assumed she’s shut down for good if they haven’t forgotten about her entirely. Even if they were both aware and inclined to go after her, she’s hardly the same vulnerable AI Tony first encountered. It wouldn’t be so easy anymore.

 

 _“Cool it, GLaDOS,”_ Tony teases. To which she responds—

 

_“Quit now, and Cake will be served immediately.”_

 

He considers leaving without a proper goodbye to Morgan, but in the end realizes that he can’t be the second Tony Stark in her life to abruptly and quietly abandon her.

 

Peter waits out of sight, clinging to the house siding like… well, like a spider… while he gently nudges her awake to talk.

 

“Hey sweetheart,” he whispers, gently brushing sleep-mussed hair out of her face.

 

“Daddy?” Morgan murmurs groggily.

 

“Hey there,” he says softly. “Remember when we first met, how we played a game together?”

 

She nods, forehead wrinkling adorably in confusion.

 

“Well, Dad’s gonna play that game again, but this time I have an extra-special mission for you. Think you’re awake enough for this one, Iron Gal?”

 

At the mention of a mission, Morgan wakes fully, eyes widening in surprised delight. It takes her a moment to register the question properly, and then she’s nodding eagerly.

 

“Right. It’s actually a two part mission. First, though, I need to introduce you to your partner.”

 

He takes out a tiny toy “spy watch” appropriated with a certain little girl’s aid about a week ago. Originally, it was part of a two-way set. After some AI-assisted tinkering, he’s managed to patch FRIDAY in to the communicator’s frequency. She’ll be able to speak through the cotton-candy pink radio-bracelets so long as at least one remains within range of the house.

 

“Morgan, say hello to FRIDAY.”

 

Recognizing her toy, Morgan presses the button on the watch and whispers, “Hello?” into the mic.

 

A moment later, there’s a soft crackling and FRIDAY replies in an equally soft and admittedly tinnier than usual voice.

 

“Hey there… Little Sis.”

 

Morgan looks between Tony and the watch with awed eyes.

 

“Yeah, that’s your big sister. She’s been asleep for awhile and needs someone with a human body looking out for her. Think you’re up to the task?”

 

Morgan is. Upon realizing FRIDAY lacks the requisite appendages to accept her solemn oath in the form of a pinky swear, she offers an alternative, explaining—

 

“When you promise something three times in a row, you can’t break it. I know, because Kamala from SI—” She says the acronym like _sigh._ “—was born without arms, and even though she’s got pros-prosth’tics, she’s too little for the grown-up ones that can do the hard stuff like cat’s cradle or pinky promises.”

 

Vows are exchanged.

 

Extremis preserves the memory in perfect detail for posterity. It’s a longer goodbye than Tony planned.

 

It’s worth it.

 

Tony tucks Morgan back into bed with a final farewell kiss on her forehead. Then he turns, hobbling on his no-longer-broken-but-still-healing leg to the window, and slips away into the night on a spider’s back.

 

Just before the duo passes out of range of FRIDAY entirely, he sends her one final message.

 

_“Take care of each other. For both of me.”_

 

Tony doesn’t know where he’ll go from here. What he’ll do, or if he’s even doing the right thing. Why, exactly, FRIDAY sent Spider-Man to save him. He’s heavy with foreign emotion he can’t quite place. Not unpleasant, just… different.

 

The hours pass. The miles between them and the lakehouse grown wider and the sky begins to lighten with a pre-dawn glow.

 

Tony sees the first twinkling lights of the city in the distance. As they cross over first the Hudson then the East River, he lets himself relax into Spider-Man—Peter’s—hold.

 

In it, he finally recognizes the feeling. It’s simply this:

 

_Hope._

 

Hope, carried on the back of an arachnid-themed superhero. Hope, supported by the strength of eight definitely-not-terrifying spindly, metallic legs sprouted from the back of a bona-fide _nanotech suit_ that, in another lifetime, he might have designed. Hope, in this impossibly possible chance to escape the demons that have haunted him since April 4, 2014.

 

With hope, Tony can dream. And with a dream, anything might happen.

 

_It’s Step Zero on a new path._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so if the length alone didn't make it obvious, a /ton/ of work went into this chapter, especially in comparison to the previous ones. Comments and kudos let me know my (and my beta's!) efforts aren't in vain. :P

**Author's Note:**

> <3 Mae


End file.
